


Saudade

by whyntir



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heartache, I Made Myself Cry, Not Beta Read, Origin Story, Painful Love, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Canon, Simon-centric, Sorry Not Sorry, The Author Regrets Everything, memories as dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 15:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16875423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyntir/pseuds/whyntir
Summary: Love was a heartbeat. Was the sound of little feet running over hardwood floor. Love was the laughter and cries of children. Was the tight squeeze of tiny arms. Love was the gentle voice humming through his core. Was the fingers carding through hair, the same as he had done. Love was beautiful, painful, all encompassing and just too short.





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

> Recommend reading this to Gavi's Song by Lindsey Sterling.

           She dashed forward a few paces to pick up the jagged pink stone on the path. Rocks were the newest interest and, for how bizarre it had been for Savannah, he found it exceedingly endearing. The fact that something so common, so plain, could ignite the fascination of a child; it was beautiful. She pranced back to his side instead of waiting for him, too eager to show off the newest addition to her growing collection. Her braids he had twisted in place that morning falling into disarray of windblown strands and fat, loose knots. Not once was he tempted to fix them.

           “Look Simon! It’s pink! Like mom’s lipstick!”

           Humming in agreement, he appraised her find as though it were a precious gem, “You’re right. I think it’s a perfect match.”  Deirdre beamed brilliantly, holding up her tiny hands for him to return her treasure. It was a nice rock, once tumbled it would make a very attractive stone. She could probably even turn it into a necklace; a keepsake of this moment in her life. It was bound to end; he honestly didn’t expect her to be enthralled with common stones for much longer. Maybe it would grow into a fascination with geology or branch into jewelry. Most likely, she would become bored with it and forget this little footnote of her life entirely. Regardless, he wanted to remember every minor detail of it. “Is this one going in the bag?”

           She copied his little hum, taking hold of his hand as she skipped at his side, tucking the rock into her jacket pocket. She was mimicking him more often, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t adore it. He lifted his arm and watched her gracelessly twirl in a flutter of giggling. The mid-September afternoon was just chilly enough that her freckled nose had turned pink, the dying leaves dancing around them on a biting breeze as she laughed.

           He smiled back, his chest feeling full as her little hand squeezed his fingers.

* * *

 

No one had told him to do this, rather, it was causing a conflict between his usual to-do list. No one had expected the baby for another twelve weeks and the nursery had never been completed. They had just finished painting the room when Savannah had collapsed. As an android, he was prompted to respond with emotional cues and he had essentially learnt what feelings were from the ground up, associating events with actions and he believed he had gotten quite adept at them. But when she complained about feeling unwell and he had followed his prompts to recommend she rest. She had started to respond when she suddenly collapsed, seizing.

He had been _terrified_.

Nathan was at work and would not be home for several hours. Deirdre was at school. Numerous prompts flooded him at once from suggesting to call Nathan to calling an ambulance to wondering who would pick up their daughter. He remembered panicking and calling the ambulance and Nathan, leaving several messages before the paramedics arrived. She stopped seizing, but his caretaker program was reading fetal distress.

The human paramedic had given him the oddest look when he stumbled over the retelling of the incident, wringing out his hands to keep them from shaking. He had asked if she and the baby would be okay. It was scary, letting her go alone, but someone had to pick up Deirdre.

Nathan had hardly been any better, having gone straight to the hospital but calling Simon in a panic-stricken mess. He barely completed any thoughts, but had managed to say that the hospital had stabilized them and the baby had been delivered. Premature at twenty-seven weeks, noted difficulty breathing and swallowing, would most likely be in the hospital for another week or three before he would be able to come home. Savannah, on the other hand, was still recovering from the seizure and hadn’t woken up yet. The two days she had been comatose had been some of the hardest and he found himself left at home while Nathan and Deirdre would be at the hospital. He didn’t get much of anything done either. Things were fine now, but the panic of the eclampsia was now replaced with the nervous anxiety of Savannah and the baby coming home.

_And the nursery still wasn’t finished._

Situated on the second floor of the home, Simon completely disapproved of the current location. Savannah had needed a cesarean delivery which would make the stairs needlessly painful and difficult, let alone with the baby being still so small, it didn’t seem acceptable to leave him in the nursery alone. He hadn’t asked, no one had even mentioned it, but he had taken the unfinished crib apart and moved it to the downstairs guest room. The bed was smaller, but there was an attached bathroom and it didn’t require her having to risk reopening her wounds or causing unnecessary pain.

He had just finished when the home security informed him that the family’s car had just entered the driveway. Glancing out the window, facing the front yard, he saw Deirdre climb out of the front seat before running around the car to open the back. Nathan looked _exhausted_ , but finally relaxed enough to smile, helping Savannah out of the back seat before reaching in and pulling out the baby carrier.

If he had hoped to meet the family at the door, that was ruined as Deirdre burst through the entrance, charging head-first into his stomach. “Dee-dee!” he scolded through a smile, though returning the hug, “I’m not soft like your father, be careful.”

“I missed you Simon!” She buried her face further into his body, fisting the fabric of his uniform.

He glanced up to see Savannah walk gingerly up the front steps, smiling when their eyes met. She was still beautiful. “Welcome home.”

“What were you doing in the guest room? I saw you looking out the window.”

He blinked rapidly, certain if he had been human, his face would have flushed. Instead, he settled for averting his gaze, tempted to nervously play with the curly mess of hair as Deirdre refused to let go. “I … moved the crib from the nursery and set it up down stairs.”

He didn’t miss how her brow furrowed, how Nathan approached behind her and how she turned to him. He couldn’t see her face, her husband mirroring the confused expression he had seen before shrugging, giving a tired lopsided grin. “Maybe it was part of the programming. It saves us the trouble.”

He couldn’t feel pain, his sensors didn’t read any damage to his exterior, and yet he _ached_. It hurt. He looked down at Deirdre, almost startled to see her brilliant green eyes watching him.

She gave him another squeeze before taking his hand, leading him to the baby carrier at her father’s feet, pulling back the cover. “Ashley,” she whispered in a sing-songy voice, the parents watching with endearing smiles as the newborn dozed in his seat. She didn’t quite wake him, but he grunted and sighed, little hands lifting in a stretch as the light illuminated behind his eyes. The pain Simon felt didn’t vanish, but it ebbed as he stared into the scrunched pink little face. He couldn’t help the crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Ashley,” Deirdre whispered to the infant as if he was listening, “This is Simon.”

For something so tiny, the grip on his finger was so strong.

* * *

 

           He really should be making dinner, the objective sitting off to the side of his vision trying to prompt him to move from his position on the couch. Deirdre sat in front of him on a decorative pillow he knew her mother would disapprove of, chewing on the end of her stylus. He laid flat on his back, taking up the entire sofa in a manner that would normally annoy him, if not for the tiny body curled up on his chest. The two month old infant fast asleep, listening to the sound of his Thirium pump, made specifically to simulate a human heartbeat. It was relaxing, cradling the baby boy as he slept, his sensors reading every vital from his racing little heart to his breaths per minute. Deirdre groaned, flopping over on the floor in protest over the reading material.

           “Dee-dee-.”

           “It’s _boring_.”

Simon shifted on the couch to get a better look at the sulking child, curled up in fetal position on the wood floor, damp strawberry blonde hair a wild, curly halo against the rich mahogany. Under his fingers, he felt Ashley fuss as well at the movement before giving a big yawn and settling back to sleep just as quickly. He glanced back to her tablet she had been reading on, the cover staring back of a young girl with short black hair in a blue jacket and rain boots standing beside a black cat. The sprawling script above her head reading out the _Coraline_ , the ‘O’ replaced with a button.

           He smiled despite himself, “Is it too hard for you?”

           Deirdre rolled on the floor to glare up at him, though it was more a pout as she crossed her arms over her chest, “No! I can read! It’s just boring.”

           “Did you finish the first three chapters?” Her glare lessened some as she puffed up her cheeks like a fish and looked away. Meaning, no; no she did not. “Dee-dee, we agreed on this.”

           “Can you read it to me Simon?”

           Prompts flashed just outside his field of vision, reminding him he was forty minutes late to begin dinner. That it would be another three hours before Savannah and Nathan were expected home. That the cat needed to be fed. That he had explicit directions not to interfere with her lessons. That the baby would be up in the next two hours in need of a diaper change.

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes and settling back on the couch as he had before; the brilliant smile of triumph from the eight-year-old all the warning he had before she launched herself onto the sofa, settling in by his feet and laying her head on his leg, just above the knee. The baby grumbled in his sleep as Simon closed his eyes, pulling up the book from his database.

“ _Fairy tales are more than true — not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten._ ”

He had made his way through to chapter five when he became aware of the fact Deirdre had wiggled herself between him and the back of the couch, head now resting on his ribs as she slept, buried into the white fabric of his uniform, the LED around his arm illuminating her freckle-dusted cheeks faintly. He remotely dimmed the living room light, leaving only the faint blue glow. Thirty-four minutes before the baby would wake up. He let his eyes close, dismissing the objectives entirely.

* * *

 

Nearly two years since Androids were finally recognized as a living beings. Two years of what had been a never ending battle. Countless speeches, public appearances, negotiations; gain a little here, hedge a little there. It was frustrating, infuriating, discouraging. And then he would take a moment and remember green eyes, curly blonde hair, a little heartbeat sleeping in his hands. During the darkest times when he worried about Jericho, worried if they would survive, when he felt hopeless in the face of the humans and their hatred, he would close his eyes and replay those memories. The happiness, the pain. They were so wrapped up together, he couldn’t tell them apart. Sitting in the dark room, he curled in on himself, forgetting all about the body laying beside him.

“Simon?” Markus shifted into something partially upright, balancing his weight on an elbow as he placed his free hand on the blonde’s hand.

“I’m fine.”

He spoke too quickly, voice too clipped, not meeting that concerned gaze. It was unnecessary, futile even. Markus knew everything, the way his eyes melted from worry to empathy. He had seen these same memories, hurt the same, loved the same.

“ _Simon_ -.”

“Please.”

The blonde android startled slightly as he felt himself pulled into a crushing embrace, his head tucked under Markus’ chin. The strong grip of his arms a grounding force, it was as his lifeline in this ocean he would drown himself in. It was selfish, it was wrong, he should hate himself for the pain he put himself through, the pain he put Markus through.

“Why, Simon?” he murmured, feeling the vibrations of his voice as a soothing purr through his entire frame.

Love was a heartbeat. Was the sound of little feet running over hardwood floor. Love was the laughter and cries of children. Was the tight squeeze of tiny arms. Love was the gentle voice humming through his core. Was the fingers carding through hair, the same as he had done. Love was beautiful, painful, all encompassing and just too short.

Simon was forced to meet his gaze. Heterochromic eyes glowing in the dim light of their entwined hands, tears marring his stoic features. Forced to look at his own pain, count the tears he never let himself cry.

* * *

 

_“Deirdre, Simon isn’t real. He’s just a machine.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I regret everything because writing this fucked me up and now I'm gonna go work while trying to deal with my new source of crippling depression.


End file.
